


Necessities

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic, schmoopy drabble set after Klaine get hitched.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessities

Kurt could honestly say he’d never imagined that the first place he and Blaine would rent as a married couple would be a boring apartment in Lima, but if he had to choose between that apartment or the horrendous silence of the loft in the months after Blaine had moved out, he would pick the basic condo with Blaine every time.

“Remember,” he said when they moved in, “we’re not really gonna decorate this place, since we’re moving back to New York in two months anyways. This is just a place to come back to before we find our real home in the city.”

“Somehow I don’t think I’m the one who’ll have to remember this,” Blaine teased, leaning in for a quick kiss. “I can’t believe you gave up the loft, though.”

“It was never _your_ home. I get that now,” Kurt said. “We need a place where both of us feel comfortable, and we need a place where I haven’t already stamped my mark so much that there isn’t room for you. A new apartment is the only way to get that, even if it’s guaranteed to be the size of my closet back at Dad’s.”

“So...how many listings do you already have bookmarked?”

“Six,” Kurt admitted. “And I plan to show them to you once we’ve finished settling in here.”

“I can hardly wait,” Blaine said, voice soft and sincere. “Shall we get to it?”

“Let’s get this place set up,” Kurt said, cutting into the first box with his keys.

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of unpacking and cuddling and realigning with each other, and soon enough the apartment looked more welcoming, if a bit impersonal. It would serve its purpose, though, so Kurt was satisfied enough for the moment. He had much more pressing concerns to deal with - namely, reacquainting himself with that whimper Blaine let out every time Kurt kissed the base of his spine.

They spent two weeks in a haze of domestic bliss and Sectionals prep until Kurt noticed that Blaine was acting a little off one evening, shooting furtive glances at their tiny coat closet and pressing his lips together like he about to deliver some bad news.

“Blaine? Did you hide a body in our foyer?” he asked at dinner, unable to stand it any longer.

Blaine nearly choked on his pasta.

“What?” he replied, turning beet red as he reached for his water glass.

“You’ve been looking at our coat closet like a kicked puppy all night,” Kurt said. “I’m getting a little worried.”

“No, it’s nothing bad,” Blaine said, looking a little dismayed at being found out. “At least, I hope not. It’s just….”

Kurt made a prompting motion with his fork, giving Blaine an expectant look.

“I may have bought some superfluous decor,” Blaine admitted sheepishly. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Oh, honey,” Kurt said, trying to sound sympathetic. He managed to keep a straight face just long enough to squeeze Blaine’s free hand on the table before bursting into laughter.

“Hey!” Blaine said, wounded.

Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine’s cheek, saying, “I’m not laughing at your fear, Blaine. I was just remembering how a certain someone said the rule about no decorations wasn’t made with him in mind.”

“Jerk,” Blaine said, but he was laughing along. “But really, you’re not mad?”

“As long as whatever you got isn’t hideous or poor quality, no,” Kurt said. “So what is it?”

“Wait right here,” Blaine said, scooting his chair back and leaving. Kurt took the moment to eat a few more bites, smiling excitedly as Blaine returned with a bulging Target bag in each hand.

Blaine set the bag in a chair to beat a mock-drumroll against the wood of their dining table before pulling something cream-colored and soft out of the bag and placing it in Kurt’s hands.

“A plain throw pillow?” Kurt asked, confused.

“Shoot,” Blaine said, blushing as he flipped it around to reveal a stylized black “Mr.” embroidered on the front. “Better?”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed. “You got-”

“Two of these and one with an ampersand,” Blaine said, smiling gently. “I know we don’t need them, but I couldn’t _not_ do it. I kept picturing our bed and how these would look in the evening when we come home every night.”

Kurt couldn’t speak for a moment, lost in the vision Blaine had just described.

“They’re not too cheesy, right?” Blaine asked shyly. “I mean, I kept the receipt….”

“Don’t you dare,” Kurt said, hugging the pillow to his chest. “They’re perfect, the best superfluous decor you could have bought. Let’s go put them on our bed right now.”

“But they don’t really match the comforter.”

“Fuck the comforter. We can get another one in New York. I’m not wasting any more of my life trying to hide how disgustingly in love I am with you, Blaine Anderson-Hummel,” Kurt said, getting up. “I do have one concern about these pillows, though.”

“And what’s that?” Blaine said, grabbing the bag and following Kurt out of the room.

“How stain-proof are these?” Kurt said, smirking at Blaine.

“I picked up some Scotchgard at Target as well, we’re set,” Blaine replied, returning Kurt’s look. 

“God, I love you.”

“I knew practicality turned you on.”

Thus began their first pillow fight as a married couple.


End file.
